Soul Full of Sorrow

If Sirius knew, he'd have been furious. He'd have snatched her up like a pup and drug her back to the Oasis kicking and screaming. It was a good thing that she was small, sneaky, and did what she wanted. Iolaire was her own keeper. Her moral compass was hard to deny. That was why, that night after everyone had fallen asleep and she'd seen to the black and silver man's injuries, she went back to the hole in the ground. The hole with the bear.

Sliding down the decline onto ground level. the tiny, dark woman blended with the shadows. The scent of blood was still strong, but it had decayed. It was no longer fresh. The bears scent, however, was strong. As she walked silently along, she passed a pile of bear scat. Disgusting. She knew that that hadn't been there when they'd left the cave and so an extra mode of caution was entered.

Iolaire chose a nice spot in the foliage. A spot where a dapple of moonlight struck the ground below. It was here that she dug, careful to keep her strokes as silent as possible. The hole that she dug was deep and it took her quite a long time, having such dainty paws to work with. One satisfied with its depth, Iolaire scrounged up various rocks and debris which she piled at the head of what would soon be a grave.

Walking one slow step at a time, the minuscule dame made her way through the darkness. Her eyes adjusted a bit, but the dark was very, very thick and murky. Using her nose, she made her way to Dapple's side. Or what was left of Dapple, anyway. The bear had been at her again and all that was left was a head, neck and one leg. Blood and guts didn't bother the little woman, but this was something else. Dapple had been someone. She had heard the pain in the mans voice as he learned of her demise.  Iolaire shook the thoughts of sorrow from her head and got to work.

With so much of the wolf missing, she was very easy to pull. Iolaire quietly drug her body through the cavern, teeth latched into the back of Dapples neck. Every now and again she'd stop, testing the area for any sign of the lumbering murderer. Satisfied, she would start again. Eventually she made it to the grave. Carefully, she slid the remains of the wolf inside and worked on covering her with the mound of dirt that she'd excavated prior. The rocks and debris were then settled over the grave and tamped down tightly. A groan at the back of the cave sent Iolaire scurrying back up the incline and dashing out into the night.

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The sun was just rising as the exhausted, bedraggled woman slid into her temporary den. She quickly checked on the injured man before collapsing onto a pile of furs. It had been a long, long night.